


Drowning in Entitlement

by musicalgirl4474



Series: Febuwhump 2021 [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Beautiful., FebuWhump2021, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Sick Sam Winchester, Zachariah Being an Asshole (Supernatural), that's a tag? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29492676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicalgirl4474/pseuds/musicalgirl4474
Summary: Day 7: PoisoningZachariah's trying to make Dean say yes without harming Michael's vessel."A few more moments of sitting on the dirty motel bathroom floor, and then Sam’s breaths start sounding ragged, wet. Sam coughs, and there’s a bubble of blood at his lips."
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: Febuwhump 2021 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140197
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Drowning in Entitlement

**Author's Note:**

> I AM SO FAR BEHIND! Like, I'm on day 8 and it's the 16th. Oops. Will I ever get caught up? Probably not until March. Oh well. Hope y'all enjoy anyway.

Zachariah, Dean decided, could go to Hell. He wondered if angels _could_ end up down there. It would be a fitting place for this douche. “I will never not say no,” he said, glaring at the angel. “Now if you could send me back to the motel, I’m kinda in the middle of something-”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Zachariah said. “Just call me if there’s anything I can do for you.” Sleazy bastard.

 _Call me if there’s anything I can do for you._ Manipulation at its finest. No sooner had his own stomach stopped swooping from Angel Air than he heard a weak sob coming from the bathroom. “Sammy?!”

“Dean!” The call was rough, as if his baby brother had been screaming. He knew the angels didn’t think much of his brother, called him _abomination_ and _the boy with the demon blood_ , but he had thought . . . hadn’t thought . . . didn’t they need Sam alive to say ‘yes’ to satan?

“What’s wrong!?” Sam was collapsed against the bathroom wall, pale-faced and sweating. There was blood on his hand where it was cupped under his chin, and his hazel eyes looked fever-bright.

“Don’ know,” his brother gasped. “Woke up an’ you weren’ here an’ I felt horrible-” he was cut off as his body spasmed and he retched, throwing himself sideways against the tub to avoid getting throw-up on the floor. Apparently the toilet was too far away.

Dean’s legs threatened to give out under him as he raced to his brother’s side, pushing his hair out of the way to feel for a fever, to check his pupils. “Did you take anything?” he asks urgently, because if Sam had overdosed . . . .

But Sam shook his head, heaving breaths into his chest. There is blood in the tub along with remnants of the cheap chinese-food dinner. _911_ is his first thought, but if his gut is right and Zachariah had caused this, what hope would human doctors have? Not that he was really sure he trusted Cas to help them, what with the whole ‘soldier of heaven’ thing, but . . .

“Cas!” There’s no answer, and Dean curses as Sam heaves again. “Cas please!”

“‘S fine,” Sam croaks, but there’s more blood, and even as Dean turns on the shower, hoping that cold water and washing away the stench might help his little brother, he knows that it is _not_ fine.

A few more moments of sitting on the dirty motel bathroom floor, and then Sam’s breaths start sounding ragged, wet. Sam coughs, and there’s a bubble of blood at his lips. “Damn it Zachariah!”

The sound of wings. “You called?” drawled out in a lazy voice. Dean turns, and it’s not just Zachariah. It’s Cas as well, who looks worried and uncomfortable. Well. Fuck him. He _should_ be uncomfortable for siding with that dick. 

“What did you do?!”

Zachariah clicked his tongue. “Just a case of rather toxic poisoning,” he shrugged. “Perfectly reversible by . . . say . . . an archangel.”

“Or just a regular angel,” Dean growled. “So fix him.”

“What will you do for me in return?”

“I thought you were supposed to be better than demons!” Sam was trembling, staring at Zachariah and Cas with wide eyes, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Which was, of course, impossible. One of Sam’s hands squeezed at Deans bicep.

Shut up, Dean, it meant. Be nice.

“We are better than demons, Dean,” Cas says, but Dean can hear the uncertainty in his voice. His friend (was he still a friend?) didn’t like this either. Sam coughed wetly, and Cas’ face paled.

“You're _worse_ ,” Dean growls as he turns to help his brother. He holds him tight, shushes him, checks the fever. It’s still there, despite the cold water coming from the showerhead. _Son-of-a-Bitch_.

“Just say ‘yes,’ Dean,” says Zachariah, and even before he can curse him out, Sam is turning, shaking his head desperately.

“Not for me,” he gasps, his voices sounding weak and gargling. “Never say yes. If it’s the last thing you do- don’t say it.” He reaches hands up to Dean’s face, and Dean can feel his brother’s blood smearing onto his skin. “Not ever.” Sam’s eyes are unfocused, pupils dilated _wrong_ with fever, staring somehow into and through Dean.

“Heal him damn you,” Dean chokes, glaring at the angels. Cas still looks torn. Zachariah looks smug. “Fuck, please!”

“No.” The smug bastard. _Bastard_. Goddamn that pompous, evil, fucking angel. Dean hoped he suffered in Hell, if that was even something that could happen to angels. Sam’s trembling was slowing, his breaths growing more laboured. Tears were stinging Dean’s eyes. He closes them desperately, feels a few track down his cheeks.

“ _Please._ ”

He’ll never know why Cas did it. If it was to save Sam or to save Dean or simply because he’d found some sliver of morality within his grace. Dean heard a slight scuffle, but all he could pay attention to was Sammy dying in his arms. _Dying. Again. Because of Dean._ Then a bright light, a yell, and the whoosh of wings.

He found out later that Cas had taken his angel blade to his superior’s shoulder, wounding him enough to send him back to Heaven. All he knew in the moment though was Cas’s hand glowing on Sam’s forehead, Sam’s body jerking, chest heaving. Then, blessedly, an uninhibited breath.


End file.
